


tear down my reason

by kallistob



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alpha Original Percival Graves, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Fingering, Bonding, Cuddling & Snuggling, Finger Sucking, Knotting, Loud Sex, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multiple Orgasms, Omega Newt Scamander, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Rough Fingering, Rough Sex, Self-Lubrication, induced alpha and omega behaviors, overwhelmed Percival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 05:12:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12904827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kallistob/pseuds/kallistob
Summary: It was not until late into the night that something happened, something which would shake the wizarding world to its core. Newt felt it first - stirrings of an unnatural heat building low in his stomach, propping him awake. He never imagined that he would be the first omega to ever exist, and the start of a biological revolution among wizardkind.





	tear down my reason

**Author's Note:**

> In this verse, alpha/omegas/betas do no exist. Newt and Graves were perfectly human before the creature bit them, and they act completely instinctively, not knowing what this all means for them. Hence the tag "induced alpha and omega behaviors" - they get turned into another species, but they can't comprehend it because they are the first alpha and omega ever.  
> think of a/b/o behaviors kind of like a virus which will spread in the wizarding world. They were the first infected.  
> idk if this is clear but tbh it was just an excuse to write porn ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> also woohoo, my first attempt at bottom!Newt, but it can be said that he tops from the bottom here. Graves is clumsily going along with it like alright, holy shit, this is happening.  
> anyway. I hope you enjoy this and I hope it gives you a great start to your week ! :3  
> title is from Nine Inch Nails - Closer, and all mistakes are mine. enjoy !

“Johnson, interview our man in custody. I want a complete report ready for tonight’s meeting, by two, on my desk. Goldstein and Volkov, I want intel on that group of Second Salemers downtown. How many actually believe in it, what they’re up to, you know the drill. Carrick, deliver this to the President from me, and keep working on Cox’s license. The other Goldstein.” Graves nodded at Queenie, raising his drink to salute her. “Thank you for the coffee. And where the hell is Scamander gone? Wasn’t he supposed to be here?”

“He mentioned something about going outside to get himself a sandwich earlier,” Tina said dubiously. “That was a couple hours ago.”

“Well where is he now? I need to talk to him.”

“His office was open,” Carrick said as he rolled and sealed the papers Graves just gave him. “He might be down into his suitcase, sir.”

Graves huffed. “Of course he would be. Alright. Meeting’s over, get back to work. I trust you all know what to do.”

They nodded and left his office, one by one. Graves relaxed back in his chair, and sighed deeply. Newt Scamander would be the death of him. While the man was not an Auror, he was still Graves’ subordinate, and he was meant to follow orders. The man couldn't go wandering as he pleased like he used to before he got this job, yet sometimes, that's exactly what he did.

Graves stood up and took off his glasses, tucking them safely inside his vest pocket. He _really_ hoped, for the man’s sake, that Scamander was actually in his office. In situations like this, Newt always seemed to escape his ire, something partly due to the fact that, at the end of the day, he still managed to deliver flawless reports. His were the most interesting to go through, writing skills obliged. But Graves tired of having to constantly remind him of his place. The fact that Newt was competent at his job did not excuse this kind of irresponsible behavior. It distracted Graves from his work, something he couldn't afford in these times of war.  

(The fact that Newt was, by simply existing, already too distracting was something Graves kept to himself. The suits Newt wore to fit MACUSA’s dress code complimented his figure well, and Graves had caught himself tuning out what Newt sometimes said to let his eyes linger. Newt looked demure, his face holding a certain feminine delicacy to it, yet he possessed power, and an underlying strength Graves had yet to fathom.)

He didn't know if the man noticed his interest. Not that it mattered - Newt was off limits for him. For now, he simply sought to remind Newt that working under Graves’ orders included showing up to briefings on time. He made his way outside his office and down the corridor, storming to the elevators. He did feel slightly pissed; after all, a man like him didn't have time to waste chasing bumbling Magizoologists through the MACUSA. That's not what he was being paid for.

He gave the house elf, Red, a quick nod in salutation, but Red knew better than to engage conversation when Graves seemed moody. “4th floor.”

The ride was short. Graves stepped out of the elevator and took the corridor to his left. Newt’s door was the only one without a name plate, as he was not supposed to work at the MACUSA for a long time. He knocked and, upon receiving no answer, pushed the door open.

Newt's temporary office was just as messy as it had been the last time Graves visited him. His desk seemed on the verge of shattering, crushed as it was under the weight of a hundred written notes, sketches, and books. There was even a green plant, with vines reaching as high up as the ceiling. He carefully avoided coming near it.

Newt’s case was open on the floor. Graves felt his twinge of annoyance returning. So Carrick had been right : Newt _was_ within MACUSA, but he was probably too distracted by his beasts to pay any attention to real life.

Graves made his way down the narrow ladder, trying not to rumple his suit too much while doing so. The shed was empty, but its door was open. He huffed and made his way inside the case, quickly finding Newt. He was kneeling on the floor with potion bottles next to him, and his voice carried to where Graves stood.

“Easy now, I'm almost done. Merlin.” Newt sounded slightly awestruck. “I’ve never seen anything like you before...”

Graves didn’t bother quieting the sound of his footsteps as he approached the man, but he came to a halt at the sight of what was in front of Newt.

It resembled a dog, roughly the size of a shepherd. But its appearance was unlike anything Graves knew to be real. It was breathing shallowly, its skin raw and chaffed around his neck - as though it had been wearing a collar for too long. Its long limbs were skeletal, barely the girth of Newt’s wrist, and its eyes - open and unseeing - were completely red. Neither white nor pupils showed. Fangs as sharp and long as daggers peeked out from under its chops, reaching below the creature’s lower jaw. Graves’ first assumption was that it was a werewolf, but werewolves were much bigger and larger. Besides, it was not a full moon.

He crouched down next to Newt, who glanced at him and smiled nervously. The magizoologist was attempting to heal the poor creature’s neck, and Graves noticed one of its legs had a splint. Newt had probably been trying to heal the poor creature for a few hours.

Its eyes were the most unnerving thing about it. Graves looked away, and down at Newt’s hands, watching him work. They were steady as Newt kept murmuring a litany of spells; and as the skin slowly mended itself in front of their eyes, Graves asked, “Where in heaven's name did you find _this_ thing?”

“Down by the docks,” Newt said, swallowing. “ _Vulnera Sanetur_ … Near one of our crime scenes, actually.”

“You think this creature is the culprit?” Graves asked warily.

Newt shook his head. “No, no. Look at the state of him. I thought he was just a stray mutt at first, but then I saw its eyes.”

“The eyes,” Graves echoed, looking at the mangled creature. “And -”

“And the fangs,” Newt agreed, following his gaze. “Similar to saber tooth tigers, although they've been extinct for centuries. I don't know what it is, but this creature isn’t guilty - its jaw could have done a lot more damage than what we saw on our victims. No, this is something else. I don't know what though. But I intend to study it carefully once it feels better, and find out.”

Newt sounded excited, and Graves shook his head. The creature seemed to breathe a little easier now that its neck was healed, and Newt looked at Percival almost shyly. “I'm sorry, Mr. Graves - would you mind helping me carry it to their nest? I built something of sorts a little further while the splint was being made.”

Graves nodded tiredly, intent on getting this over with. He rose up and moved his hand, levitating the creature until it floated in the air in front of him. Newt stood up as well, watching it for any signs of discomfort. Its open, red eyes stared at Graves, and its injured legs hung limply below him, like strokes of dripping ink trying to merge with the ground. Unease settled in Graves, heavy on his shoulders. The longer he looked at the creature’s eyes, the more his skin crawled in repulsion.

Yet he couldn’t look away. Unthinkingly, he took a step forward, and thought he saw something changing in the creature's gaze - awareness, rising. Whatever it was, it now knew that it was not alone anymore.

“Percival?”

The creature slowly, ever so slowly, lifted its head. It was _looking_ back at him. Cold terror gripped Graves’ heart. He tried to move, tried to push Newt back and away. As surely as he knew his name, he suddenly _knew_ they were in danger. But his limbs didn’t respond to the slowly building panic in his brain. The creature opened its jaw, gaze still locked with his, holding him captive. Graves saw three rows of fangs inside its mouth, and his face took on a sickly white sheen. He heard Newt gasp next to him. Graves’ eyes were wide open, unable to comprehend what he was seeing as the creature opened its mouth wider, a black pit ready to swallow Graves whole. He remained unable to move even as his entire body shook in fright. He couldn't run. He couldn't save himself. In the corner of his vision he saw Newt cast a spell at the creature, but it merely turned its head, fast and distorted, to swallow the ray of light. Its neck was stretched, and Graves saw tissue and bones ripple under the skin as it turned to focus on him again.

Time slowed down. Graves saw, as though standing outside his own body, a tongue uncoil from inside the creature’s fathomless mouth. It grew towards him, and he felt it touch his neck, wet and rough and alien. There was a sharp pain and he cried out. The tongue retreated only to turn to Newt, a living parasite having taken the dog's body hostage. Newt was witnessing the scene, his face a mask of horror. He didn’t have time to move before the creature stung his hand. His scream pierced the air. He fell on his knees as pain spread through his body in waves - poisoning him with each quick, fearful beat of his heart. He clutched his hand to his chest, collapsing on the ground next to Graves. The Director had fallen. He was looking at Newt in shock, his entire body wracked with tremors, his hand weakly clutching at his neck, where the pain began, and _he_ ended.

No longer held upright by Graves’ magic, the creature fell as well, like a puppet with cut strings. Bones snapped, and it whined in pain for a long moment before progressively stilling.

It closed its eyes, its breathing growing shallower and fainter until it stopped altogether. The creature died, while the two men it had attacked laid on the ground next to it, their muscles twitching and blood burning as their bodies underwent changes they had no means to comprehend.

They were found like this, blood trickling from their noses and mouths, their clothes wet and clinging to their bodies, their limbs jerking. Eyes wild and unseeing. Tina screamed before calling for backup, and the two men were rushed to the medical ward, where doctors desperately tried to understand what was happening to them.

Newt seemed in greater pain than Percival, and Percival - even while unconscious - was unable to detach himself from Newt. He held onto the lithe Magizoologist with all the strength of a damned man, and trying to separate them only resulted in a burst of magic so strong it almost split the doctors in two cleanly.

The both of them would share the same bed, then, even in their illness; and that seemed to ease their pain a bit. Newt’s breathing quieted down. Graves sought out contact with the younger man, curling around him in his sleep, something which baffled the doctors to no end.

A creature, they’d been told. What kind of creature could induce this behavior in men?

There was nothing they could do, but wait until the two of them had awakened. They were sleeping soundly now, and there was nothing outwardly wrong with them. They told the President and the Aurors as much, and while it didn’t please them, there was nothing more to be added.

Newt Scamander and Percival Graves would be kept under observation for the night. With a bit of luck, they would wake up soon, and be able to tell precisely how they felt. People left the room, and a nurse turned off the lights with a flick of her wand. The two men could call if something happened to them, and should there an unusual magical activity inside the room, the staff would be warned immediately.

There was nothing left to do but wait.

The day went by. By the time the hospital was empty, Newton Scamander’s and Percival Graves’ ordeal had almost been forgotten, kept under wraps by order of the President herself. There was no need to alarm people, especially if both men seemed in fine enough health - which was puzzling, but it was the truth.

Nurses went home. A few remained, checking on the patients for the night. Said patients yawned and settled into their cots for the night. In a large, warm room, snuggling on a single bed, were Mr. Graves and Mr. Scamander, soundly asleep.

It was not until late into the night that something happened, something which should shake the wizarding world to its core. But as Newt felt the first stirrings of an unnatural heat build low in his stomach, he didn't know that he would be the first omega to ever exist, and the start of a biological revolution among wizardkind.

-

He felt too hot, as though trapped within an iron cage, licked by fire. He coughed and turned on his side, and the hands around his waist tightened. He made a low, confused noise in the back of his throat. Waves of inferno pooled low in his stomach, and spread through his body - leaving him gasping. He tried to open his eyes, but even that hurt, as though they were swollen shut. He blinked rapidly. His breath was coming in short gasps, and he couldn’t think past the fire in his guts. He coughed again, trying to detach himself from the person at his back to breathe. It didn’t help. Newt raked his hands through his hair, before looking at them. They shook so much they became a blur in his vision. His head swam.

He pulled himself upright and threw the covers off of him, while at his side, the other man stirred. His clothes clung to his body, wet and hot. The hospital gown was too heavy against his skin, and Newt found himself scrabbling for the knot at the back to untie it. He threw it to the side without care. He was stark naked, and his shivering only increased. He felt too hot, too hot, too _hot._ He was back in the desert, without a drop of water to soothe his parched throat, the sun making his head spin.

He fell back on the bed, sensing movement on his left. _Percival_ , it was Percival, and Newt tried to talk but he could only manage a weak cry. The man knelt next to him, and even in the lowlights of the room Newt could see he looked stronger somehow, broader. His eyes were full of concern and Newt found himself reaching out to him with a shaking hand. Graves could help him, he was suddenly sure of it, and he whimpered again - high and pitiful. Graves laid down next to him, and Newt saw his mouth move, but he couldn’t focus past the roaring of his own heartbeat pulsing in his veins.

“Newt, Newt, Newt - look at me,” Graves said, his hand touching Newt’s forehead. “Do you want me to call someone?”

Newt’s heart went cold at the thought, and he shook his head, rolling on his side to be closer to Graves. Arms wrapped around him hesitantly, and he nearly moaned at the gesture. He was completely flushed with fever. Percival’s arms around him felt right. They felt safe, they felt good, and Newt unthinkingly writhed against him. He nosed at the hollow of Percival’s neck and Percival went stiff under him, but Newt couldn’t stop.

Then his stomach seized up. He gurgled and choked, folding in on himself. He felt wetness between his legs, and wondered if he’d peed himself. Another cramp made him sob, stronger than the last, and he clung to Percival desperately, unable to comprehend what was happening to him. Percival held him close and kissed his hair, his brow, but it wasn’t enough to make it stop.

His insides contracted again. Newt felt something dribble down his thighs, something cool and slick, and it came from inside him. “What's - wha -- help me,” he croaked out.

“Newt, I have to call someone -”

Newt rubbed his thighs together, spreading the dampness, and Graves stopped talking to inhale sharply, nostrils flaring. And Newt smelt it too - something that emanated from him, something sharp and sweet that had Percival growling low before he realized what he was doing. The sound went straight to Newt’s cock and he looked up at Percival in shock, before another cramp made him double over.

“I’m all wet,” he sobbed. “D - Director - _Percival_ \- I’m all wet, make it stop --”

“Newt, Newt.” Percival petted Newt’s arms, his naked back, his flank. He drifted lower and Newt moaned. He could feel something else in the air, a high note merging with his own scent, something just as heady and intoxicating, but brighter, sharper than his own. It had to come from Percival, he realized, he was the only other person in the room and it made sense that he would smell so good.

Newt sat up, and a gush of slick dripped from his hole. He sucked in a breath, eyes wide at the feeling, and it seemed to ignite Graves with want. He grabbed Newt’s arms and pulled him forward. Newt fell on top of him, and oh, _yes_ , he’d been right, Percival was the one smelling so good. Newt needed more. He searched for the spot where Graves smelt the strongest and found it at his pulse point. He pressed himself closer, a groan escaping him at the scent. It filled his nose, dulled his senses, made him go limp and soft in Percival’s arms.

He smelt so _good_. Newt wanted - no, he needed - to taste him, and Graves let out a breathy moan when he felt Newt’s teeth at his throat. Newt nibbled at the skin, and Percival tasted _incredible_ , as edible as he smelt. He wanted more of that sweetness, more of Percival, he wanted - he wanted -

His hole clenched, wetness gushing out of him as he bit Percival’s throat. The man grabbed a handful of Newt’s bare ass in response, squeezing, and it was so close to where Newt wanted him that he rocked back against that hand. “ _Oh_ ,” he said, eyes wide in realization. “Oh, yes, oh please, please touch me -”

He stilled and shuddered as another spasm ran through him.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Graves said. His hand went down blindly, petting and squeezing Newt’s skin until it reached the place where Newt was hot and wet for him. Newt shook above him, and Percival dipped his finger between Newt’s cheeks to his little hole. Newt’s mouth dropped open and he needed, oh God, that was it, he needed it, needed _him_ , inside, please --

He didn’t realize he was saying this out loud, the words tumbling from his lips until Graves’ hand flew to the nape of his neck and he pushed Newt down, trapping him against his body as he rubbed his finger against Newt’s rim. Newt muffled his scream in Graves’ shoulder, his hole clenching repeatedly, trying to suck Graves’ finger in.

 _“Please, please, please -_ ”

“Newt, God, Newt, you - I don’t - I can’t -- what are you _doing_ to _me,_ Jesus --”

“Inside, inside, inside,” Newt panted, past all considerations of dignity. He only wanted this, he had never wanted anything more, and if Graves didn’t breach him now surely he was going to die. He didn’t think anyone could survive with a fever so high, surely there had to be an end to this, and he knew Percival could help him.

“Perci - val,” he sighed. He kissed Percival’s neck before biting Percival’s nightgown as another cramp passed through him. Percival’s finger was still teasing, not inside, and it was torture. “Val - Val - oh god, please fuck me, _fuck me, fuck me --”_

“Jesus Christ,” Graves cursed, and it was all he needed to let go. He finally dipped his finger inside Newt, and it was so hot and wet and _loose_. Graves was losing his mind. “ _Fuck._ ”

Newt gave him little whimpers, rocking back on that single digit, trying to take him deeper, to be filled _more_. He took another finger easily, their pheromones rising like the tide and driving them both mad with need. Newt was taking him so well, moaning so prettily, Graves didn’t know how it was possible that no one heard them. He didn’t _want_ them to hear, he thought viciously as he crooked his fingers inside Newt and Newt wailed, rising off the bed to escape the searing pleasure. Graves brought him down gently back on his fingers, and Newt was shaking, utterly mindless. Graves gave him three of them, three inside him and he twisted and spread them and Newt’s eyes rolled back in their sockets. Graves wrapped his other hand around Newt’s cock, and Newt came with a loud moan, half a sob, emptying himself on Graves’ chest, hot drops of come reaching his neck. His hole tightened around Graves’ fingers, like a vice trying to take Graves’ entire hand inside, and the thought made him bare his teeth. Newt was dripping, leaking all over his thighs and Percival’s forearm.

“Fuck, what the _fuck_ , Newton, oh my God --”

Newt was still hard, flushed prettily even after he’d come. He rolled off of Graves and Graves tugged off his own nightgown swiftly, before straddling Newt, braced above on all fours. Newt had nowhere to go, he belonged there, and Graves gripped his hair and tipped his head back to kiss him. He licked into his open mouth messily, claiming him with his tongue, as Newt whimpered and spread his legs for him. Graves released him. Newt turned his head to take Graves’ fingers in his mouth, suckling on them, his teeth scraping against Percival’s knuckles. Graves’ cock was touching Newt’s own, and he rubbed himself against Newt’s skin like this. Newt moaned with it, and it was _not enough_.

With both hands he pushed Newt’s legs up and apart. Newt hooked his arms behind his knees and held himself open, spread and wanton and wanting, jaw slackening at the sight of Percival’s hard cock. His breathing quickened, and now he was panting like a bitch in heat.

“God, fuck,” Percival murmured as he took himself in hand. He stroked himself a couple times and Newt whined, hips bucking up and drawing Graves’ attention to the little fluttering hole that wanted his cock inside. “Oh, shit. You really want this, don’t you? You want my cock inside you.”

“Yeah, yes, I do, now _, now -_ ”

Graves pushed the head of his cock against Newt’s hole and it gave around him, welcoming him inside as thought Newt had been born to take it.

“Oh, God, oh - _God_ , yeah, _yeah_ , more, give me more,” Newt babbled. “That’s it, fuck _yes,_ that’s it. Percival, oh _God_.”

Graves couldn't speak, his breath shaky. He rolled his hips, and his cock went so easily inside Newt’s tight hole. Newt’s voice had quieted down to a whisper, his eyes were closed, but he kept a steady plea of, “yes yes yes fuck me yes -” so Graves obliged. He slipped out and pushed Newt’s legs further up, bending the man in two until Newt’s ankles were on either side of his head, and he guided his cock inside once more - making sure to push _all_ the way in so Newt could feel his girth.

“ _Uh,_ ” Newt said, opening his eyes. “Oh, _God_. Do that again.”

Graves did. He went as deep as he could go with each gentle thrust, and Newt bit his knuckles, his toes curling each time Graves moved inside him. Oh God, Graves was _inside him._ His hole was stuffed full, he was being stretched, being taken, and nothing had ever felt so right as this. He moaned encouragingly, and Graves pulled out before slamming back in. Newt gasped and arched off the bed, feeling himself unravel as Percival did that again and again, praising Newt as his thrusts went from slow and deep to hard, fast jabs.

“Val, Val, Val --” Newt hiccuped and swallowed, letting out a keen when Percival’s cock pushed right against his prostate. “Oh, _God!_ _Percival!”_

“So close, so close,” Graves panted. “Newt - do you -- can I --”

“Yes, yes, Percival, _yes!”_

“F - _fuck.”_ Percival’s hips stuttered, his thrusts erratic. He chased the feeling of Newt around him, slamming into him with reckless abandon. There was a searing heat at the base of his cock, and the next sound Newt made was one of pain. Graves pulled out in shock, and Newt whimpered are the loss, opening his eyes and looking at Graves, and --

“Oh _God,_ what the _fuck._ ”

“That,” Newt said, eyes locked on the swelling at the base of Graves’ cock. Another stab of lust lanced through him, and he knew that was what he'd been waiting for. “Oh God, _that_. Give me that. _Inside._ ”

“Newt --”

 _“Inside_.” Newt’s voice washed over him and Graves whined, helpless. He wanted it just as much. “Come on.”

Graves obeyed. He entered Newt again and it was bliss. Newt hissed at the new stretch as the swelling knot tried to fit inside him, but he _wanted_ it, he’d never wanted anything more.

“Uh, _uh_ , fuck,” Graves said. He breathed, and tried to push it back inside Newt. “ _Fuck._ ”

“Faster,” Newt groaned in frustration, knowing what he needed. His entire body rolled with each of Graves’ thrusts, dilating and contracting, and Graves sobbed with it. He went harder, one hand curling around Newt’s throat as he sought his own release, the other gripping Newt's hips. Newt choked on a moan as Graves pressed against his prostate, and then Newt’s body _gave in_ and took all of Graves’ cock inside with a final, heavy thrust. Newt’s eyes rolled back in their sockets.

It was more than any orgasm Newt had ever had. His spine stiffened, his limbs unfurling as nerves sparked to life inside him and he wailed with it, baring his throat to Graves instinctively. Graves leant in and _bit_ down hard. Newt was coming, he couldn’t stop coming and Graves sucked at his neck, hard and searing as Newt shook in his arms. The pleasure was unrelenting, Newt was oversensitized everywhere and he almost begged Percival to stop, to go, but Percival held him down.

“I’m coming,” Graves said, shaking above him. “Newt, I’m - _I’m still coming_.” He closed his eyes and shuddered. Newt could feel him inside, filling him, and he moaned at the sensation. Graves moved minutely, his cock brushing against something inside Newt, and heat travelled up his spine down to his toes as he came again, his cock dribbling over his stomach. Graves panted, placing his head on Newt’s shoulder, overwhelmed. His hands touched Newt everywhere he could reach, caressing his hair, his face, petting his shoulders, his sides. Newt exhaled with it, relaxing and slowly regaining his senses. Graves tried to move and they both grunted with it, still locked together.

Newt felt content. At peace. Sated. He kissed the top of Graves’ head as the man came again, groaning in his arms, and Newt idly wondered if he would be so stuffed full as for his belly to show it - a bump, his stomach full of Graves’ come.

He blinked confusedly.

Graves was crushing him with his weight. They were incapable of pulling themselves apart without it resulting in pain, so they stopped trying. Instead, they found a means to make it work - the both of them on their sides, facing each other, snuggled as close as possible to one another.

Graves’ cock was still pulsing inside him. It should be terrifying, but Newt only felt loved. Graves was caressing his cheek, smiling at him with a fondness that made Newt blush despite all that happened. He tucked his head in the crook of Graves’ shoulder to hide, and Graves brought him closer, caressing the nape of his neck and sighing contentedly. He still shivered, stilling sometimes before relaxing, and Newt knew he came again and again. He felt pride at knowing that his body was responsible for making Graves feel this way, pride at knowing he was giving Graves pleasure.

It took a while before Graves could move inside Newt without any pain. Newt yawned and moved away carefully, Graves’ cock finally slipping from his hole. He felt empty and didn't like the feeling, but it was overridden by his exhaustion. Graves opened his arms and Newt joined him, not even thinking about cleaning himself.

Being like this, in Graves’ arms, with his sloppy hole leaking his own slick and Percival's come, felt just right. He smiled and tilted his head up, and Graves kissed him gently, lovingly. Newt made a happy noise, almost a purr, and Graves tugged the blanket back on top of their naked bodies.

They felt both warm, sated, loved and safe. Nothing had ever felt so right as this, and neither of them wanted this happiness to end.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Tell me if you enjoyed it, so I can write more porn for you. ;)


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